


Stained •Zayn Malik AU•

by KitIsTheOne



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bradford, F/M, Gangs, Grudges, Love, Malik - Freeform, Minor Violence, Multi, Mystery, Stains, Tattoos, West Yorkshire, direction, life - Freeform, one - Freeform, zayn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 06:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2640770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitIsTheOne/pseuds/KitIsTheOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanting no part of the life her mother has started with a new husband, Natalie Ross moves to Bradford, West Yorkshire to live with her brother.  As she begins to settle into her own new life, constant encounters with danger are putting her off from the happiness she wishes to pursue.  Coincidentally — or maybe not — a boy she meets within her first day of moving is around every run-in she has, always coming to her rescue.  "Mysterious" doesn't even begin to cover it as she tries to find more ways to see him, hoping to uncover some of the memories stained in ink on his arm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. •One•

    The stiffness in my legs made me wince as I stood, the train having been stopped for a good few minutes.  I’d let most of the passengers file out before me, not wanting to get caught in the hustle and bustle of their frantic escape from the stuffy car.  Only an old couple remained across the aisle from me as I reached for my luggage.  I set the suitcase down at my feet before nodding a hello at the elderly pair, then proceeded to roll my belongings behind me.

 

    As I exited the car and stepped onto the platform, I caught a great mouthful of train exhaust carried by the wind.  Coughing and eyes watering, I shuffled around in search of my brother.  People milled around me, carrying conversations I only retained bits and pieces of; politics, celebrities, the weather over the past couple of weeks.  My eyes traveled up to the gloomy sky and I subconsciously tightened my coat around my body.  September held many rains, and today was no exception.  The precipitation had only provided a small reprieve about ten minutes before I arrived in Bradford.

 

    “Nat!”

 

    I spun my head, looking for the deep voice that called my name.  My eyes found a lanky boy about thirty feet away, waving a hand over his head.  A smile spread across my face as I recognized the brilliant blue eyes and sandy blond curls of my brother, whom I hadn’t seen in almost a year.  My feet carried me over to him and I threw myself into his arms.

 

    “Eli,” I mumbled into his shoulder, letting an uncontrollable grin take hold of my face.  “Good to see you.”

 

    He held me at arms length, inspecting my appearance.  “Your hair is so long, I almost didn’t recognize you.  You could pass for Rapunzel — minus the color, of course.”

 

    I shook my head at him.  “Damn Mum for passing along the brunette gene,” I joked, tossing a lock of it over my shoulder.

 

    Eli gave me a soft smile.  “How is she, by the way?”

 

    I rolled my eyes.  “I’ve only just gotten here and you already want to talk about  _that_ woman?”  I punched him playfully.  “If I’d have known you’d tire of me that quickly, I would’ve hopped on a train headed for Aunt Tally’s.”

 

    “Nonsense,” he answered.  “Just wanted to know if her and our step-father gave you any grief when you left.”

 

    I shrugged, brushing away another piece of hair that’d been blown in my face.  “I was given nothing more than a goodbye from the both of them before having to walk a mile to the station.”  I paused before saying, “And he’s no father of mine — he’s nothing to me, not anymore.”

 

    Eli gave a short smile before a raindrop fell onto his face.  His eyes went wide.  “We should get going,” he said quickly, taking my suitcase from my hand.  I protested but he shook me off, so I settled for pacing alongside him to the cover of the main building.

 

    In the time it took us to make our way through the complex, a steady rain had settled over the city.  Eli and I were both soaked head to toe when we reached his car, and I sloshed into the passenger seat while he quickly stowed my luggage in the boot.  I shucked off my coat and tossed it in the back seat and my brother slid into the driver’s seat a second later.  The car shuddered to life and he threw it into first before pulling away from the curb.

 

    A short while later Eli parked in front of a row of adjoined brick townhouses, clad with peeling off-white doors and muddy-red shutters.  We got out of the car and I collected my coat from the back seat while my brother took my suitcase again.  He lead me to the small porch of a two-story marked with a fading “41”, fumbled with the keys before shoving open the creaking door, then reached over my head to press the ‘lock’ button for his car.  It responded with a hoot and Eli was satisfied, making more room for me to step into the warm residence.

 

    “Where is she?” I said automatically.

 

    Just by the smell and tidiness of the place, I knew a female lived here as well as Eli.  He hadn’t told me of any girlfriend because he knew I would’ve drilled him with questions the second I found out.  This was like Eli, not telling me things until the moment they’re absolutely necessary because talking was much easier than typing.

 

    “Who?” he asked, looking startled.

 

    “The girl!  What’s her name?”

 

    I hung my dripping coat in the closet next to the door, then turned to the living room.  The entry opened right up into it, a tan carpet expanse holding black leather sofas and a glass coffee table.  Blankets sat neatly folded on a rack in the corner and held up several pillows as well.  The walls were a green that almost looked brown at a glance, and held a few pieces of abstract artwork.  Past the living room I saw a kitchen just as tidy, the rooms divided only by a counter that ran half the span of the area.

 

    “How did you—“

 

    “You didn’t honestly think that for one second I could believe you had a taste in art,” I teased, gesturing to the fun-looking canvases.  “Or an affinity for it,” I added, noticing the detail in them.

 

    “That would be Micah,” he replied, a light pink dusting his face as he put up his coat.  “Everything right in this place can be attributed to her.”

 

    I turned and pinched his cheeks.  “How adorable!  How old is she?  What does she do?  Does she live here?  Well, obviously she does.  What’s she like?  Is she here?”

 

    Eli pinched the brim of his nose, trying to act annoyed, but I saw a sliver of a smile.  “I’ll tell you eventually, Nat.  Can we just get you settled first?”

 

    I nodded, taking my suitcase from his hand.  “Where’s my room?”

 

    My brother pushed past me and I followed him to a set of stairs at the back of the main level.  They were steep enough to throw off my balance, requiring me to grab the handrail on the climb up.  When we reached the top he took me down a long hall stretching to the front of the townhouse.  The last door opened to the left, revealing a small space with enough room to fit a double bed, a beside table, and a small desk with a stool.  Eli dropped my suitcase on the bed and turned to me.

 

    “There’s a closet back there,” he pointed to a door next to the bed.  “Everything should fit, even though it’s a little cramped.  I see you didn’t bring much.”

 

    He was referencing my medium-sized suitcase.  I hadn’t packed much, though I was planning on permanently moving into my brother’s home.  Mum thought I’d only be staying a couple weeks, but Eli and I had privately agreed on my visit being indefinite.  Even though I had turned eighteen, she and her new husband seemed to think they still had power over me.  As much as I hated it, they wouldn’t have let me leave if they’d known it was for good.  Thus, the small luggage bag.

 

    “I guess I’ll just have to wash them often,” I told him with a shrug.

 

    “Which reminds me,” he said, snapping his fingers.  “There’s a bathroom up here with a washing machine and dryer, but they’re broken and I don’t have the will to fix them with a cheap launderette up the road.”

 

    I chuckled, shaking my head at my brother.  He was just as I remembered him back in Dundee.  He, too, had escaped at eighteen when he saw how serious things with Mum and her husband were getting.  They weren’t married then, but Eli didn’t want to stick around to see how much worse it would get when they did.  I was sixteen when he left, a legal adult where we lived, but I couldn’t go with my brother until I turned eighteen — the age of a legal adult where he was going.

 

    “Only one bathroom?” I asked him, beginning to dig in my bag for a dry set of clothes.

 

    “Only one with a shower,” he replied.  “That’s the second-level one.  The bathroom on the main floor is the one we — well, Micah — tries to keep nice.  It was a right mess before she moved in, and now it shines.”

 

    He was beaming.  Clearly, this Micah girl meant a lot to him.  I couldn’t keep the grin from my face at the thought of my brother finding happiness away from home.  My hope was to do the same, free from my mum.

 

    “What are you smiling about?” Eli teased, nudging my shoulder.

 

    “Oh, just you,” I replied with a giggle.

 

    He shared my laugh before gesturing at the clothes I’d pulled from my suitcase.  “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll give Micah a call to see where she is.  I can make something to eat, if you want anything?”

 

    I rose my eyebrows at him.  “Or we could go out to eat?” I suggested, remembering just how bad of a cook Eli was.

 

    “Good idea,” Eli called over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

 

 

•    •    •

 

 

    After I’d gotten dressed, draped my wet clothes over the stool, and completely unpacked, I felt free to slip downstairs.  I hadn’t set one foot in the kitchen before a body was thrown at me, arms wrapping around my shoulders and nearly knocking me to the floor.

 

    “Oh, it’s so great to finally meet you!” a distinctly feminine voice squealed at me.  I caught a face full of black, untamed curls that smelled like lavender.  “Eli has told me so much about you and I was so excited to hear you’re staying with us now!”

 

    “You must be Micah,” I chuckled, reciprocating the vice-like hug.

 

    “That’s me,” she nearly cheered, stepping back to grin from ear to ear.

 

    She was one of the prettiest girls I’d ever seen, and didn’t look a day over nineteen.  Her skin was a calm honey bronze that made her eyes stand out.  They were hazel with more green showing through than anything, and her cheek bones were to die for.  A once-over from me showed that she was wearing dark jeans and a flowing blouse — if I had to guess, I’d say size four.

 

    “I’m Natalie,” I told her, though I could guess she already knew my name.  “My brother calls me Nat.”

 

    “Please, come sit down,” she gestured to the counter, where four stools I hadn’t noticed sat waiting.  Eli occupied one, and the one next to his was pulled out, most likely for Micah.

 

    I took up the stool to Eli’s right and Micah pushed a glass of fizzing liquid toward me.  One sip told me it was a coke, and I accepted it with a smile.  Micah remained across the counter, leaning on her elbows and looking at me expectantly.

 

    “You have to tell us about the trip down,” she said.  “I’ve heard the landscape is just beautiful when you travel between here and Scotland, but I’ve never been.”

 

    “I wasn’t paying much attention to the landscape,” I confessed, taking another sip.  “I found an abandoned book on the train and couldn’t resist picking it up.  I don’t remember what it was called, but it wasn’t a bad read.”

 

    Micah nodded, taking a drink from her own glass.  “Well, I can’t say Bradford will be a nice change from Dundee, but I bet you’ll enjoy being with your brother again.”

 

    “It’ll be nice,” I agreed.  “That is, of course, until he fights me for the bathroom in the morning.”

 

    We all chuckled a bit.  “Even though there’s just one shower, at least there are two mirrors,” Micah offered.  “We won’t be butting heads over space to do our makeup and hair for the most part.”

 

    “This is a good thing,” I admitted, raising my hands slightly.

 

    “Great,” Eli groaned.  “Now I’ll have to tell  _two_  women they look good in whatever they wear — on their bodies  _and_  their faces.”

 

    Micah and I beamed and slapped a high-five.  The three of us sat at the counter and talked for a long while.  The clock on the stove flashed to ten before Eli set his glass in the sink.

 

    “I almost forgot,” he said.  “You only turned eighteen just last week.  Have you been to a bar recently?”

 

    I shook my head.  “Mum wouldn’t let me out of her sight from my birthday until I left for the train.  I was lucky to slip away and get my license.”  I pulled the card out of my pocket and flashed it proudly.

 

    “Perfect!” Eli said, pushing his stool under the counter.  “I think your arrival calls for celebration.  It’s been quite a while since Micah and I have been to The Telly.  I’ll even buy you your first legal drink.”

 

    I grimaced, thinking of how my hair looked after all the rain.  “Give me ten minutes to do something with this mop on my head and touch up my face.”

 

    “He’ll have to,” Micah piped up.  “I’ve got to get ready as well.  I still have my work clothes on.”

 

    Eli rolled his eyes.  “I’ll give you twenty, because that’s how long it usually is when you say ten.”

 

    Micah and I both kissed his cheek as we walked past, then giggled up the stairs to our rooms.

 

    Eli had been right about needing twenty minutes.  My hair was tangled from the wind and getting rained on, waving tremendously compared to the straight I’d made it that morning.  On a good day it took me several minutes to run a brush through it, and today definitely wasn’t a good day for my hair.  I’d decided after getting most of the knots out that I could settle for a tying it high on my head, then cleaned up the makeup smudged from rain under my eyes.

 

    Micah — now dressed in skinny jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, looking much like me — met Eli and I downstairs at exactly twenty minutes, then we pulled on our coats and ducked out into the rainy night.  It was only light now, but the night was cold and the streets were still filled with running water.  After piling into Eli’s car, he drove us down the road a few minutes to a run-down bar with the words, “The Telly” in red over the top of the double doors.  I could hear the steady thrum of bass from the car.  Judging by the steady flow of people moving inside the doors, it was a popular spot and a busy one.

 

    The three of us made a dash for the doors, crowding in with a few other people closer to Eli’s age.  We found stools up by the bar and sat waiting for the barman to ask us what we wanted.  Music blasted around the bar, and a mass of bodies was gathered in the center of the floor dancing to the sporadic beat of a cheap remix.

 

    “This seems more like a club than a pub,” I shouted above the noise at Eli.

 

    “Believe it or not, this is one of the tamest bars around Bradford,” he replied.  “The clubs are more in the heart of Bradford, too far of a distance to walk home if Micah and I both have something to drink.  Which reminds me,” he said, turning to Micah.  “Is it your turn or mine to drive home?”

 

    She said something to him, but I couldn’t hear it over the loud music.  The pair shared a short kiss before Eli turned back to me.

 

    “Looks like we’ll be getting drunk together on your first outing,” he laughed.

 

    The barman stopped in front of us with a smile on his face.  “Haven’t seen you here in about a month,” he directed at Eli.  His voice was a loud baritone, not having to try to be heard over the noise of the bar.  “I missed having you and your girl around to talk to when things were slow.”

 

    “We’ve been taking a break from public outings for a while,” Eli told him.  “My sister just came in today, and I thought the best way to get her settled in was to introduce her to the best mixer in Bradford.”

 

    “Pleased to meet you,” the barman nodded at me.  He reached out his hand and I took it.  “I’m Jeremy.”

 

    “Natalie,” I said. 

 

    “You both are from Dundee?” Jeremy continued, more of a statement than a question.  Eli must’ve told him, and after receiving a nod from both of us, he laughed.  “Shall we see how much alcohol you Scotts can handle?”

 

    I glanced hurriedly at Eli, wondering how much he’d been able to consume in the past.  Hoping Jeremy was only kidding, I turned back and laughed along with the two.  Jeremy’s head suddenly flicked to his right, ear catching the angry shout of another person interested in a drink.

 

    “Say it again and you’ll be at the back of the queue!” Jeremy’s angry voice returned.  He rolled his eyes significant enough for the man to see, who then gave Jeremy an obscene gesture.  Without noticing, the barman turned back to my brother and I.  “What’ll you have?  I suggest a difficult one, just to piss off the impatient bastard over there.”

 

    “The usual for me,” Eli said, then looked to me.  “Pick any drink, but make it a good one.  We want your opinion of drinking high.”

 

    I smiled.  “Whatever’s good.  Get me your favorite.”

 

    My brother rubbed his hands together, a mischievous look on his face.  “Alright then.”  He gave a long name of a drink I’d never remember, then Micah ordered and Jeremy began mixing different liquids.  Not thirty seconds later I had a fruity looking drink slid in front of me.

 

    “Won’t even make you pay for it,” Jeremy said to me.  “Since it’s your first and I’m feeling nice, all three of you are free of charge.  Just for the first one, though,” he clarified, pointing at Eli, who held up his hands.

 

    With that, Jeremy gave another hearty laugh and stalked off to the impatient line of people waiting for drinks.  I stared down at my beverage, a deep orange with a hint of blue at the bottom.  Turning to face my brother, I rose an eyebrow.

 

    “This is the best you could think of?” I asked.  “I’m new, not a baby.  This frilly thing looks elementary.”

 

    “You say that now,” he chortled, taking a swig from his own glass and wincing as the liquid washed down his throat.  “That thing’s got a hell of a kick to it.”

 

    I turned back to it and my hand slid around the glass, drawing it slowly to my lips.  The bite was felt against my mouth before I even swallowed, taking me by surprise.  I coughed as it burned my throat the whole way down and set my glass down on the bar.  It hadn’t hit my stomach before I was already raising the glass again, craving the tingling sensation already stemming in my body.

 

    “…doesn’t even phase her,” I heard Eli say to Micah as the ending song faded into a new one.

 

    I winked at him.  “I guess I’m just a natural.”

 

    Little did he know I’d taken my first sip when I was fifteen, and wasn’t new to the concept of drinking.  A fair amount of my time in school had been spent partying, despite what Mum wanted for me.

 

    I felt someone’s presence slide into the seat next to mine before I saw him.

 

    My head turned to catch a male in my peripheral.  He looked a year or two over twenty with a facial structure almost as enviable as Micah’s.  Hair the color of asphalt was slicked into a quiff and unreadable brown eyes glanced from place to place throughout the room.  He was wearing dark jeans and a t-shirt that looked a size too big, the sleeves rolled to reveal a sleeve of ink staining his skin in the form of tattoos.

 

    The boy moved with precision, like even the tap of his foot was planned out in advance.  It made him look unnatural, but incredibly fluent at the same time.  My fingers drummed against my glass as he pulled a wallet out of his back pocket and set it in front of him on the bar.  The way my heart sped up when I watched his face told me there was something off about him — dangerous, even.  My eyes glanced down the row of stools lined against the bar.  Most were empty, meaning he could’ve chosen any seat; he’d deliberately picked the one to my left.

 

    “Would you like a picture?” I heard him speak, his voice smooth and calm.  He glanced over at me.  “It’ll last you longer.”

 

    Up until that point, I didn’t know I’d been blatantly staring at the boy.  My face burned as his eyes flashed to mine.  His stare was so hard I felt like I was looking at a brick wall, impassible no matter what angle you were looking at it.

 

    “Don’t flatter yourself,” I replied coyly, taking a sip from my drink.  “You’re the one who sat next to me.”

 

    “Yet you’re not complaining,” he smirked.

 

    I rolled my eyes and turned my body to face forward.  A long moment of silence passed between us before he spoke up again.

 

    “What’s your name?” he asked.

 

    I glanced at him, body turned completely in my direction.  “What’s it to you?”

 

    A small smile glanced his features.  “I’d like to know the name of the woman I’m about to buy a drink for.”

 

    My eyes studied his face, shadowed by a bit of scruff along his jaw.  I held up the orange and blue drink previously sat in front of me.  “I’ve got one.”

 

    “I’ll buy you another,” he said immediately, as if expecting my response.

 

    I rose an eyebrow at him.  “What’s your name?” I asked, repeating his previous question.

 

    “What’s it to you?”  I could tell he was mocking me, though playfully.

 

    “I’d like to know the name of the man about to buy me a drink.”  I felt a grin spread across my face as he laughed.  After the few seconds I’d spent talking to him, “dangerous” didn’t even cross my mind anymore.  He was fairly open, as far as I could tell.

 

    “Fine, then,” he said.  “I’m Zayn.”

 

    I nodded.  “Natalie.”

 

    I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to find my brother, Micah in tow.  “We’re going to dance,” he told me.  His eyes flashed past me, then to mine again.  Something in them had changed from lighthearted to serious.  “Don’t stray to far, okay?”

 

    I gave him a reassuring smile, then turned back to Zayn.  He was watching me intently, the amusement in his eyes gone as well.  What had passed between him and my brother?  Did they know each other?

 

    “Who was that?” Zayn questioned, nodding toward Eli.

 

    “My brother,” I said.  “Do you know him?”

 

    He took a moment to consider, as if he were choosing his answer carefully.  “No,” he finally said.  Zayn’s gaze fell back on me, and I could almost feel the change in atmosphere around him.  He stood abruptly.  “I have to leave.”

 

    I gave him a confused look.  “You just sat down,” I protested.  “You didn’t even order a drink.”

 

    The small smile from before fell back onto his face.  “I’ll buy us both a drink some other time,” he said.

 

    With that, he brushed past my stool, leaving behind only the scent of his cologne.  Almost involuntarily, I took a deep breath of it and sighed.  What had gone on between Eli and Zayn that one look from my brother could chase him away?  I turned to watch Zayn go, but I couldn’t find him.  My head swiveled to each direction, finding most paths moderately open, wondering how he’d disappeared in the span of three seconds.   _Dangerous_  flashed through my mind once again, picturing how easy he would be able to slip from a scene unnoticed.

 

    Shaking my head, I took one last sip of my drink before sliding from my stool and walking toward the pulsating crowd of people, intent on finding Eli and Micah.


	2. •Two•

    Monday came around faster than I expected, and before I knew it I’d already been living in Bradford for three days.

 

    Micah and Eli both had jobs, so most of Saturday I’d spent alone in the house.  I’d never been one to like sitting around and twiddling my thumbs, so by Monday morning I’d decided to get off my rear and find a job.  The problem I had was finding one without straying too far from Eli’s place.

 

    My brother had warned me multiple times about finding work too far from home, since the neighborhood he lived in definitely didn’t have the best reputation.  Without a car of my own, I’d have to walk back to the townhouse if I didn’t want Eli picking me up.  I had to admit, the idea of walking home alone didn’t appeal to me all that well, but I perked up when Micah mentioned a café just a mile up the road.

 

    I persuaded Eli to let me off in front of the café at half past four, one of the times I knew from experience in food service was the least busy.  My brother gave me a quick good luck before heading to pick up Micah from work.  I watched him turn down a side street before glancing up at the sign.  The place was called LJ’s, most likely named after the owner.  A small “Help Wanted” sign hung in the window.

 

    I pushed through the door and was immediately hit with the smell of tea and pastries.  It was a reasonably large room with about twenty tables to either side of the entrance, almost all with place sets that screamed casual.  The carpet spread over the whole floor was a deep crimson that stopped suddenly with the raise of wooden walls.  In the far right corner of the café, there were double doors leading most likely into the kitchen, where clatters of plates and silverware could be heard.  Soft music played over the speakers, providing a filler in the occasional quiet.

 

    “Can I help you?” a sweet voice asked.  My gaze met that of a girl who couldn’t be older than seventeen, stood behind a wood podium with the seating chart of the café under her hands.  Her hair was slicked back in a bun and she held a kind smile.

 

    “Could I speak to the owner?” I asked, my feet carrying me toward her.  “I’m here about the job opening.”

 

    She nodded.  “Follow me.”  The girl lead me back through the room, weaving around tables before pushing into the kitchen.  “You’ll have to talk to his wife, since LJ isn’t in right now.”  A long hall lead back to an office that the girl pointed me to.

 

    I gave her a short thanks before approaching the door and knocking quietly.  The door opened so quickly it made me jump, and I was face-to-face with a middle-aged bulky woman.  She smiled kindly, giving off a strong motherly atmosphere, and welcomed me into the office without question.

 

    “Sit, sit,” she instructed, gesturing to a heavily cushioned chair sat in front of a long metal desk.  Pictures of the woman and who I assumed to be her husband littered the wall, along with Christmas and  _Happy Birthday_  cards from various families.  Stacks of papers covered the desk, and she swept them aside to lean her elbows on the metal surface.  “I bet you’re here about the job.”

 

    I blinked, then answered, “Yes.  Do you have a form I could fill out?”

 

    She waved me off.  “No need, I can just ask you questions right now,” the woman said, happily and quickly.  “I’m Amelia Jones, but you can just call me Amie.  If Lily didn’t already tell you, I’m Loren’s wife, but people know him by ‘LJ’.  What’s your name, dear?”

 

    I was having a little trouble keeping up with her exuberant personality, but managed to catch her question.  “Natalie Ross, ma’am.”

 

    “Just call me Amie,” she repeated, not acknowledging that she heard anything other than  _ma’am_.  “How old are you?”

 

    “Eighteen,” I replied.  With a glance down at her hands, I noticed she wasn’t writing anything down, and wondered if that were a good thing or not.

 

    “Where are you from?” Amie smiled affectionately.

 

    “Dundee.”

 

    “Ah,” she said, nodding.  “It’s quite lovely there.  When did you move?”

 

    I told her how I’d moved in with my brother just the past Friday, which made her laugh at my obligation to get a job so soon.  She then continued to drill me with a few questions concerning my past, but nothing I couldn’t answer easily.

 

    “Last question,” she stated, pushing out her chair and turning to dig in a cabinet behind her.  “Actually, two.  Number one; can you start tonight?”

 

    I stared at the back of her head, baffled that she hadn’t considered it more.  “Yes, of course,” came my shocked reply.

 

    “Wonderful!” she cheered.  “Now, what size are you?”

 

    I asked for a six and was handed a pair of black trousers with a short-sleeved white blouse.  The shirt was embroidered with an LJ’s symbol above the left breast pocket.  A laminated menu fell in front of me on the desk and I took it.

 

    “You’ve got about half an hour to learn that before the dinner rush starts,” Amie told me.  “We can handle the papers and everything after we close.  We’re a little understaffed as of late, so you’re pretty much the answer to our prayers.  If that weren’t the case, I’d only have you hostessing tonight, but you’ll have to make do.”

 

    Amie turned to the cabinet again and pulled out an apron, pad of paper, and a couple pens.  After setting them in front of me, she left the room in a hurry.  I sat, confused and a little dizzy from the quickness she moved with.  I had just stood to collect the apron when she swept back into the office holding a key.

 

    “Here’s your locker key,” she said, holding it out for me to take.  Once I did, she moved behind the metal desk again.  “There should be three or four at the end of the row without name plates on them; one of those will be your locker.  That room is through the kitchen, the only door on the far wall.  You should go change quickly while I go whip up something for you to munch on before you start, since I assume you didn’t think to eat before coming over.  Get that menu in your head, and you’re out on the floor by a quarter after five.  Good luck, darling!”

 

    I didn’t want to seem as slow as I felt, so I gathered everything she’d set out into my grasp and pushed out of the office.  Ducking under the arms of people cooking, I went through the kitchen to find the room she’d explained.  The key in my hand had “26” printed on the base, and I found the corresponding locker at the end of the row.  I unlocked it and set my bag in after shooting a text to Eli, telling him I’d gotten the job and would text him when I needed a lift home.

 

    A bathroom in the corner of the room caught my eye and I locked myself in, changing as quick as I could.  I probably had a lot more time than I felt I did, but Amie’s quick attitude had me scrambling to keep up with anything.  I had a feeling this job was going to be stressful the first week, and probably even a few days after that.

 

    After appearing back in the locker room I tied the apron around my hips and slipped the pen and pad of paper into one of the pockets.  Finally feeling able to slow down a little, I locked the compartment, slid the key into the pocket of my trousers, and sat down on the bench to study the menu.

 

    “Oh, good,” Amie’s voice made my head raise from the beverage section.  She was wearing an apron of her own now, and had a plate in her hand with salad and a section of a baguette.  “You’ve already changed, that’s good.  Here’s something to eat for now, on the house in honor of your first day.”  She set the plate next to me, then patted my head, saying, “Hopefully you’ve got something to tie that beautiful hair back.  I’ll come check on you in twenty minutes.  And today’s special is the Chef’s Choice Soup, by the way.”

 

    I made a mental note of that, and began to absorb the dishes on the menu.

 

 

•    •    •

 

 

    Despite it’s location (the building was set in what Eli called one of the “rough” neighborhoods of Bradford), the café brought in a surprising amount of hungry people during dinner hours.  I found myself actually sweating a bit when carrying orders and food back and forth from the floor to the kitchen.  I understood what Amie meant quickly when she said  _understaffed_ ; for all forty tables, there were only three actual waitresses.  Not even halfway through the night, Amie had to join Lily, Meghan, and I to bring us down to a number we could handle.  By the end of the night I was completely spent.  I was relieved, to say the least, when Amie called me off the floor and into her office.

 

    “You did such a good job,” she complimented, digging a few papers out of the drawers underneath the desk.  “For your first night, of course.”

 

    I let out a deep breath before sinking into the cushions of the chair.  “Thanks,” I said tiredly.

 

    Amie slid a stack of documents and a pen my way.  “You’ll have to sign these and write down a few informational things, and then you’re free to go for tonight.”  I accepted the pen from her and began to sift through the papers.  “I’ll need you every night this week starting at 5, with the exception of Friday.  You should be here by a quarter to five at the latest, and shouldn’t expect to leave until eleven at the earliest.  Does that sound okay?  We can work out the rest of your regular hours Monday of next week.”

 

    I simply nodded, not having the energy to verbalize my agreement.  She exited the office, mumbling something about cleaning up the kitchen, and left me alone to fill out what she’d set in front of me.  Half an hour later I set the very last document on her desk and capped the pen.  The clock on the wall read a quarter to midnight, and I rubbed my temples.  Hopefully I wouldn’t be working this late every night.

 

    Pulling together the last bit of vigor I had left in me, I walked to the locker room and changed back into my clothes.  After hanging the apron in the compartment and stuffing the rest of my uniform in my bag, I pulled my phone out.  I pressed the power button multiple times, but the screen remained black and lifeless.  Sighing, I shoved it into my pocket and accepted the fact I would have to walk the mile back to my brother’s place.

 

    It wouldn’t have bothered me during the hours the sun was still in the sky, but seeing as the light was long gone, I felt a little reluctant to step outside.  Convincing myself I’d be fine on the  _relatively_ short walk, I pushed out into the night air and headed back on the road Eli had taken to bring me here.

 

    I hadn’t walked half a block when my nerves began to get the better of me.  Streetlights were alight over the road, but were dim enough that I couldn’t see much beyond three in front of me.  The road I was walking along held storefronts the whole length of the block, and I could make out a row of townhouses much like my brother’s on the other side.  I could also make out the silhouettes of women, one every few houses, sitting or standing in the front garden.  I was confused as to what they were doing just standing there this late when another, larger silhouette approached one of the women.  A few words were shared before she grabbed his hand and walked him into the house.  When the door was opened light flooded over the two and I grimaced in recognition — the woman was a prostitute.  Lovely.

 

    I quickened my pace, the situation making me very uncomfortable.  If I hurried, I could be home in just over eight minutes — I could make it.

 

    After walking another block, I noticed there were no more women along the fronts of the houses.  I felt free to slow up a little, not feeling so awkward anymore.  Something like two minutes passed, and I came to a stop at an intersection.  A few cars were driving past, so I waited before going to take a step out into the road.  A voice behind me stopped my movements.

 

    “How much?” asked a voice, startlingly deep and ragged.

 

    I turned to find a man shrouded in shadows against a shabby storefront.  His hair was disheveled, giving the appearance he hadn’t combed it in days.  A wrinkled blazer adorned his torso, a few dark food stains splattering his light colored tie.  He looked like he’d seen at least forty years of the world, but it might have just been the lines of stress on his forehead.   _Drunk_  also came to mind at his slurred speech.

 

    “Excuse me?”

 

    “How much for your…  _services_?” he asked, annunciating as much as he could in his debauched state.

 

    My face scrunched in disgust.  He thought I was one of the women, stood out in the front garden and seducing sad men to make a living.  Did I look like one?  Maybe, to him, his perception altered by alcohol.  The look he was throwing at me made my heart quicken.

 

    “I’m not for sale,” I told him.  “Go home and sleep.”

 

    I turned, not wishing to stay any longer.  My nerves were on end and a shiver threatened to travel up my spine.  Wanting to be home already, again I moved to step into the street — but a forceful hand caught my arm.

 

    “Free, then,” the man behind me growled.

 

    I cried out as his grip tightened and I felt myself being pulled back.  My bag dropped from my shoulder and spilled onto the concrete as I twisted against the man, only to have my other arm caught and pulled behind me.  Heart pounding against my rib cage, I tried to lash out with my foot, but only kicked air.  As I brought my leg back, I succeeded in tripping over it as the man hauled me another few feet.  My body dropped with a  _thud_ , and I felt the material covering my knee rip against the walk.  The immobility of my form proved an easier struggle for him, as I was dragged into a small expanse between the storefronts before I could blink.

 

    Another shout escaped my lips as my shoulders groaned in complaint, the man showing no sign of letting up on my arms.  I was hauled to my feet and thrown against the brick wall of the alley, wincing in pain as the side of my face took most of the blow.

 

    “Please,” I whimpered, forcing myself to draw air into my lungs at a normal pace.  My limbs were numb, a sign of how frightened I really was.  I felt light-headed, about to pass out at any moment, but I kept my eyes open.  “Please, just let me go, and I won’t tell anyone you did this.”

 

    “You won’t be telling anyone, anyway,” he barked in my ear.

 

    I jolted at his voice, cowering away from him.  A scream stemmed in my throat as I felt a hand slide under my shirt, rough against the skin of my back as his other held a vice on my arms.  Tears sprung into my eyes, a product of the tightness in my chest and my racing adrenaline.  I was caught painfully between drawing in too much air and not enough.

 

    “Hey, mate!” a different voice echoed down the alley.  It was smooth and calm, but the undertone of anger was undeniable.

 

    Both the man and I jumped in surprise.  The voice came from the other end of the alley and I couldn’t turn to face it.  Hands still tight on me, the man who’d grabbed me threw out a string of obscenities.

 

    “Let her go,” the second voice called out again.

 

    “What’s it to you?” the man called back.  “Just turn the other way, lad.”

 

    “You’d be better off following your own advice.”

 

    My gut told me to remain quiet as the two conversed, though tensely.  Heart rate still through the roof, I managed to keep my breathing somewhat even.

 

    “It’s none of your business, now is it!?”

 

    There was silence, and for a beat I thought whoever it was that’d come to my defense had left.  When footsteps began to echo through the alley, I didn’t know who I was more afraid of — the man who held me, or the one pursuing us.  Five long seconds passed before the steps stopped, quite near us.

 

    “Fuck off,” the second male growled, not five feet from us.  It took all I had in me not to whimper again, longing to see the face of whoever had joined.

 

    Another long list of curses fell from my captor’s mouth before I was given one last shove against the wall.  I stumbled back as his hold fell away, only to be caught by the second man while he ran from the alley.  I didn’t wait an instant before shoving away from the new set of arms, whirling to catch a glimpse of his face.  Tears spilled over onto my cheeks, the immediate threat gone and a potential one shoving its way in.

 

    “What do you want?” I breathed, backing away.  The darkness within the alley provided me no way to see whoever it was stood in front of me.

 

    “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,” he chuckled lightly.  “Looks like you really wanted that drink.”

 

    With his words, a few things snapped into place.  I squinted, recognizing the voice but trying to prove my suspicions with the confirmation of physical features.  “Zayn?”

 

    “Hi, Natalie.”

 

    Relief washed through me and I nearly collapsed, my rush of adrenaline subsiding and leaving me exhausted.  I’d met him before, at the bar that first night.  Granted, he hadn’t left me with the  _best_  impression, but I was willing to make an exception for someone rescuing me.  The only thing that really stuck out was how quickly he’d disappeared the first time, and that made me nervous.  The stealth of a killer, really — but I squished that sense down, thinking it preposterous.

 

    Zayn began walking toward me, and reflexively I backed up.  “I’m not going to hurt you, Love.  Let’s go get your things.”  He gestured toward my bag, its contents spilled all over.  I sighed, then walked with him to the dim rays of the street lamps.

 

    As I bent to collect my belongings, I noticed something missing.  “Damn that bastard!” I hissed, realizing the wad of money I’d stuff in earlier was nowhere to be found.  It was only a little, but it was that little bit that’d gotten me here and away from Mum.

 

    “I’m sorry your first impression of Bradford is a shoddy one,” Zayn said.  “Though I can’t say it’s much better than this.”

 

    Now under lighting, I glanced up to take in his form.  He wore another pair of dark jeans and sported an even darker t-shirt, a v-neck with the sleeves once again rolled up.  The tattoos staining his right arm were even more daunting in the dark.

 

    “What were you doing out here, anyway?” I asked slowly, standing up and slinging my newly collected bag over my shoulder.  My mind hadn’t gathered until now how odd it had been for so many people to be out and about on a Monday night.  Maybe things worked differently here, but it still didn’t seem right.  Especially for someone like Zayn, who’d given me a weird feeling the moment I’d met him.

 

    “I was on a business outing,” he said after a moment of consideration.  His tone reminded me of how carefully he seemed to operate, every move planned in advance.

 

    “Why here?” I asked, my brow pulling together.  “Why this late?”

 

    A small smile graced his features, but in the dimness it looked almost eerie.  The shadows cast under his cheekbones gave his expression a chilling tone, but I shook the shiver building in my spine.

 

    “Have a nice night, Love,” Zayn told me, then turned back into the alley.  “And avoid stopping at street corners — they’ll think you’re one of Uriah’s girls.”

 

    My jaw went slack, puzzled by his response; more specifically, his lack there of.  “Business” wasn’t really an answer to the where or when, and he knew it.  Was there something he didn’t want me to know?  I shook my head.  Of course there would be.  I’d only just met Zayn, and not for more than five minutes each time.  Disclosing too much to me, particularly because of who he came off to be, wouldn’t be wise.  Not just me, of course, but anyone he’d just met.  I wouldn’t have told him much either; I should only expect the same from him.

 

    I snapped out of my thoughts when I realized Zayn had completely cleared the alley.  He came out on the other side and I saw him walk under the light of a streetlamp.  Zayn looked left, then right, then back toward me.  I froze, knowing our eyes were locked even if I couldn’t see him.  Suddenly I felt as if I couldn’t move, like he was an anchor hold me in place.  Only when he looked away and made a sharp left out of my view was I released.

 

    What pushed me to my next actions, I didn’t know.  Curiosity, maybe?  It felt like more than that.  Something about Zayn was intriguing, drawing me to him in a way I hadn’t been to anything else.  It didn’t sit right with me, not knowing where he was headed — I wanted to find out.

 

    My feet carried me as quietly as they could into the alley.  It felt agonizingly long in the dark, but Zayn couldn’t have gotten too far in ten seconds.  I’d just about cleared three-fourths of the expanse when my foot caught on something jutting out from the wall.  I cried out as I fell, landing hard on my already exposed knee and my elbows.  Metal bins clattered all around, echoing throughout the alley and ringing in my ears.

 

    So much for stealth.

 

    Cursing, I pulled myself from the gritty floor and dusted off my hands.  My body was sore and I was worn out, but I continued on my path.  Sighing, I came out on the other side of the block and immediately looked to the left, where Zayn had taken off.  My eyes widened, then turned completely around where I stood.  Everywhere I looked, I couldn’t find a trace of him.  Zayn was gone.

 

    I felt something slide down my leg and yelped, jumping away in hopes of avoiding whatever it was.  As I looked down, I laughed nervously at myself.  All it had been was a stream of blood, trickling from where I’d just scraped it up.

 

    I heaved a long breath out of my system.  It was late, I was jumpy and tired, and I wanted to be home —  _needed_ to be home.  A long glance down the alley steered me away from it, a shudder up my spine reminding me of what’d just happened there.  Trying to push the disturbing encounter from my thoughts, I made a detour according to the block I’d just come from.

 

    The rest of the walk home was deafeningly silent with no one in sight, but I couldn’t help the feeling someone was watching me.  I stole looks over my shoulder the whole way home, and didn’t feel safe until I’d made it to my brother’s townhouse, cleaned up my knee, and settled safely into bed.


	3. •Three•

    Another layer of makeup was applied to the fading bruise on my cheek.  After deciding the memoir from Monday night was concealed well enough, I answered Micah’s call to me from the main level.

 

    “I’ll be down in a minute!”

 

    She’d decided earlier that we were to go shopping that afternoon, a bonding experience for the two women that now lived under Eli’s roof.  Normally I would’ve complied without hesitation, but the week at work had worn me out and all I really wanted was a drink.  Consequently, Eli had agreed to a night at the bar if I humored Micah for a few hours.

 

    I slipped on a pair of jeans, careful to avoid too much pressure on the scab decorating my knee.  I’d managed to avoid being found out by Eli.  He had no idea of the events that took place on my way home from work, nor would he ever.  I didn’t need him babying me, especially now that I was an adult and could fend for myself.

 

    A blue top was tugged on and I threw my hair into a bun before striding out of my bedroom and meeting Micah in the kitchen.  She was wearing a sun dress and a cardigan, red shoes adorning her feet as she walked over and gathered me into a hug.  Her attire was hardly appropriate for the soppy weather we’d had over the past few days.

 

    “Thank you so much for coming with me,” she said.  “I know you’re tired, but I thought since we both had the day off…”

 

    Micah quieted herself before pulling away, and I caught on that she was looking for assurance.  “I’m glad you asked me,” I smiled, squeezing her hand before walking to the closet for my shoes.  “I need to get to know the area better anyway, and if walking around a shopping centre for a couple hours is what it takes, then I’m willing.”

 

    “We’ll be over in Leeds,” Micah called from the kitchen.  “It’s quite nice over there.”

 

    I heard the fridge open and close, and when I turned she held a bottle of tea out to me.  After kicking my heels into the back of my flats I took it and nodded a thanks.

 

    “Nothing like a cold tea in the midst of a September rain,” she smiled.

 

    The front door opened abruptly and I turned to find Eli stood in the doorway with a wet windbreaker held in his arms.  He jingled the keys to his car and tossed them to Micah, who approached him with a kiss on the cheek as a greeting.

 

    “I think the point of a rain jacket is to  _wear_  it,” I told him, shying away from his embrace.  “Don’t touch me, you’re dripping!”

 

    “Love you too, my dear sister,” he rolled his eyes, shucking off his shoes and walking into the kitchen.  He dropped his jacket onto the counter and smiled at Micah and I.  “You girls have fun today.  I’ll see you in a bit.”

 

    We said our goodbyes before pushing out into the rain and jogging to the car.  Micah squealed as she fumbled with the lock, pressing the wrong button a few times before finally allowing us to collapse onto the seats with water soaking into our clothes.

 

    “At least we’ve got about twenty minutes to dry,” she giggled, turning the key in the ignition and pulling away from the curb.

 

    We sang obnoxiously to songs on the radio the whole way there and shared quite a few laughs.  I really did like Micah.  She was a good fit for Eli, and I enjoyed being in her company for the most part.  A few times her ever-present cheerfulness had gotten on my nerves, but my annoyance had never lasted more than a few seconds.  Micah felt like the sister I’d never had.

 

    After Micah pulled into a parking space, we counted to three before pushing out of the car and running into the shopping centre.  Laughing, we shook the water out of our clothes and slung our bags over our shoulders before beginning to browse the stores.  Micah pointed out a few she wanted to look in, and we decided to start furthest away from the entrance and work toward the front, where we’d parked the car.

 

    The first store we entered was a furnishings and home accessory outlet.  I was at Micah’s mercy, being dragged around to ever dinner set, rug, or lamp she felt was interesting.  Picture frames seemed to be her thing, three in her hand at any given time while I pushed smiles onto my face.  She held up a wooden one about ten inches tall and eight inches across, her enthusiastic grin reaching well into her eyes.

 

    “My mum has a frame like this back home,” she told me.  “It makes a lovely family portrait holder, don’t you think?”

 

    I smiled.  “Of course.”

 

    She gazed at it for a long moment before setting it back on the shelf.  After checking her phone, Micah took my hand and dragged me toward the store’s entrance.  “I found a few things the other day I think would look lovely on you,” she cheered, then pulled me into another store, clothing this time.

 

    I didn’t recognize the name of the shop, but the clothes on the front racks caught my attention.  It was a store meant for people like Micah, who dressed nicely for every occasion, whether sitting at home or going out to the bar.  I definitely couldn’t say I was like that, but I did like wearing a skirt every once in a while.  Micah seemed satisfied with my interested expression, because she clapped her hands and led me to the back wall of the store.

 

    I ran my hands through the various blouses and dresses, admiring the floral and aztec prints.  My fingers closed around a particular dress with a solid coral top and navy-and-white chevron skirt.  After holding it up, I received an eager nod from Micah.  She pushed another dress and a blouse into my hands before turning me to face the fitting rooms.

 

    “Go try them on for me,” she instructed.

 

    I did as she said and pulled the curtain of the first room closed.  After hanging my bag on a hook, I slipped off my clothes and pulled on the first dress I’d picked out.  Turning every which way, I inspected my reflection in the mirror on the wall.  I pulled out the tie in my hair for good measure, adjusting it to look slightly styled against my shoulders.  The outfit made me smile, and I twirled.

 

    “Do you like this one, Micah?” I asked, pulling back the curtain.  She stood outside with her arms crossed.

 

    “That looks really good on you,” she gushed, reaching out to adjust the hem.  “I didn’t peg you for a girl who liked that color, but you look amazing in this dress.”

 

    I smiled.  “I think I’ll buy it.”  I reached back to find the price tag, grimaced, then shut myself back in the fitting room.  “Maybe not.”

 

    “It can’t be that much,” Micah said through the heavy fabric barrier.

 

    “It’s more than I’ve got in my pocket right now,” I laughed, shrugging the dress off.  “It’s alright.  I’ll come back for it when I get my first pay.”

 

    Micah sighed.  “I hope it’ll still be here when you come back.  They change stock regularly.”

 

    My lips pouted as looked at the dress in my hands.  “I hope so too.  If not, I can live without it.”

 

    There was a pause before Micah’s hand jutted through the curtain.  “I’ll take it back to the rack for you.  In the meantime, why don’t you try the other two on?”

 

    I gave her the dress and turned to the next.  The hem reached the floor in a waterfall of baby blue, scrunched around the waist and just above the chest to hold it up without sleeves.  I slid it on, throwing my hair back into its bun when it got in the way.  The dress was nice, but I wrinkled my nose at the way it made my backside look and let it fall to the floor.  My jeans were tugged back on and the blouse Micah had picked glided onto my torso.  It was a faded purple, sheer enough to need a camisole underneath, and comfortable.  After turning in the mirror a couple times, I checked the tag.  A smile spread on my face when I realized I could actually afford it.  I slipped it off and put my own shirt back on, then adjusted my bag on my shoulder and carried the purple blouse out of the fitting room.

 

    “Oh my gosh!” I heard an unfamiliar voice gasp.  My head turned in the direction of the sound, finding a blond female who looked about twenty-one and wore clothes about a size too small.  “Is that you, Micah Gronwall?”

 

    My gaze flashed to Micah, whose face had feigned happiness written all over it.  I watched the girl approach and engulf her in a tight embrace, squealing about missing her beyond belief.  Nearly laughing when Micah’s enthusiastic expression seemed almost pained, I walked up to the counter to buy the blouse.  After mumbling a thanks, I shuffled over to where Micah and the girl were standing.

 

    “Ah, Nat!” Micah breathed, sounding relieved.  “This is Tanya Grey, an old friend of mine.  Tanya, this is my boyfriend’s sister, Natalie.”

 

    “So good to meet you,” Tanya said, grasping me in a vice-like hug.

 

    “You as well,” I practically choked for lack of air.

 

    When she pulled away, I adjusted my bag and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, looking toward Micah for some kind of signal that we could leave.  She didn’t have the chance to give me one, because Tanya plunged right into a long-winded story about how things were “back home in Darlington”.  I bit back a smile when Micah groaned at a certain story about an old enemy of hers.  Tanya didn’t seem to have a filter, not even leaving room for replies.  I let my eyes wander around the shop and to the entrance, where people were passing.

 

    Suddenly, I flinched.

 

    I blinked once, twice, making sure I’d seen what I thought I had.  It was gone now, but I could’ve sworn I’d seen a flash of tattoos —  _familiar_  tattoos.

 

    “Excuse me,” I said to Micah and Tanya, then walked as fast as I could toward the main hall of the shopping centre.  My heart sped up as I neared the doors.

 

    As soon as I reached the noisy atrium my head jolted right, where I’d seen him pass.  My eyes searched all along the walls, but I couldn’t catch sight of him.  Unable to resist, I weaved my way in and out of people in hopes of finding the boy I was looking for — Zayn.

 

    Had it really been him?  It may have been pure coincidence he was here the same day Micah and I were, but given the circumstances under which we’d previously encountered each other, I found it hard to believe.  From what Micah had told me, not many people came to this shopping centre during the day, especially on a week day.  It definitely wasn’t a hotspot for hanging out, particularly for people who put off the same aura as Zayn.

 

    Did Zayn really have any reason to follow me, though?  We’d only met twice, and given that the second time was to defend me from someone about to take advantage of me in an alley, was I really the kind of person he’d seek out?  Zayn couldn’t feel obligated to protect me, because he barely knew me — could he?

 

    The answer was no, that I was just being paranoid.  There were plenty of people in the area who had tattoos, some more than I could count.  The chances of one of those other potentially thousands of people being here were incredibly high, and I needed to calm down.  Why was I so worked up in the first place?

 

    I turned and headed back to the store I’d left Micah and Tanya in.  I could tell Micah wanted out as I approached the pair, and decided to help.  Slinging my arm around her shoulder, I pretended to show her a message on my phone.

 

    “Eli says we should head back now,” I said, looking apologetically at Tanya.  “It was nice meeting you, but my brother wants to meet us for a bite in a little bit.”

 

    Tanya waved me off.  “No problem at all.”  She pulled both Micah and I into another hug.  “Do keep in touch, Micah.  I’m always open for a conversation!”

 

    “I’ll keep that in mind,” she smiled.  “See you, Tanya.”

 

    Micah grasped my arm and lead us out of the store, speed-walking past several shops she’d said she wanted to hit.  “Thank you for doing that,”  she breathed.  “We should get out of here.  I can’t survive another run-in with that one.”

 

    I chuckled.  “She seemed nice.  What’s the matter with her?”

 

    Micah rolled her eyes and puffed out her cheeks.  “She doesn’t know when to shut  _up_.”

 

    I smiled, then held up the shopping bag in my hand.  “Hey, I got the top you wanted me to try on.”

 

    She beamed, holding up a bag identical to mine.  “And I got you the dress you wanted.”

 

    My jaw dropped.  “You didn’t!”

 

    “I did,” she nodded.  “I’m not taking it back, and you’re not getting the receipt to return it.  Think if it as a housewarming gift.”

 

    “It’s not even my house I’m living in,” I laughed.

 

    Micah shrugged.  “Then it’s just my gift to you.  Take it — I’m not letting you leave it.”

 

    She held out the bag and I slid it onto my wrist with the other one.  “Remind me to do something like this for you the next time we go out.”

 

    Micah rolled her eyes again and began talking about alternate plans for the afternoon, since staying here was no longer an option.  We agreed to try to find a restaurant for a late lunch, and passed by a few more stores she looked longingly at.  I followed her gaze, smiling until another movement caught my eye.

 

     _There it is again_ , I thought, my eyes blindly chasing the ink-stained arm I’d seen too many times in the past week.  How could I see him one second, and lose sight of him the next?  My head twisted to try and catch a glimpse of Zayn, but I was met with nothing but unfamiliar faces.

 

    I sighed and continued walking with Micah, unable to shake the chills prickling at the base of my neck.

 

 

••    ••    ••    ••    ••    ••    ••    ••    ••    ••    ••    ••    ••

 

 

    By the time Micah and I had returned home, the sun had long began to set and my head had started to throb.  At that point, a drink was really all I needed.

 

    I groaned as Eli pulled me into a head lock, attempting to tickle my sides.  “If I’d have known you hadn’t matured past sixteen,” I laughed painfully, “I wouldn’t have left Dundee!  At least mum has a sense of personal space.”

 

    He reluctantly let me go, and I snuck in a jab to his side before taking off for the stairs.  Up in my room I changed into black leggings and a long knitted sweater, completing the look with a brown necklace that matched the color of my eyes.  After slinging a purse over my shoulder I galloped down the steps and met Micah in the kitchen.  Sighing, I slid onto one of the counter stools and rubbed my temples.

 

    “I wouldn’t have dragged you around all day if I knew you’d be miserable,” she said sadly, pushing a glass of water in front of me.

 

    “Don’t worry about it,” waving her off and thanking her for the drink.  “I had fun, I promise.  It’s just been a long time since I’ve had to work this hard, especially waitressing.”

 

    She smiled.  “You’ll get back into the swing of it.  Do you know your set hours yet?”

 

    I shook my head after taking a drink of water.  My throat took it willingly, begging for hydration.  “Amie and LJ have to set up my schedule.  They said they’ll have it done by Monday and asked me to pick it up over lunch.”

 

    Micah clasped her hands.  “They seem like such kind people.  It was awesome you were able to get the job that quick.”

 

    “I know,” I laughed, recalling the hectic first night I’d had.  “She put me on the spot, really.  I had about twenty minutes to memorize the menu before Amie sent me out onto the floor.”

 

    She gasped.  “You must have quite the memory!  I could never do that.”

 

    I shrugged.  “I worked in foods when I lived with my mother.  All menus are the same in some way.”

 

    “Enough talking about food!” Eli called out as he stomped down the stairs.  “Let’s go, ladies.”

 

    We rolled our eyes at each other, then moved to the front door for our shoes.  A few minutes later we were in the car, joking about how the rain seemed to clear whenever we weren’t going to be outside.  The darkened sky held sparse clouds, though I could see many in the distance — at least a steady drizzle tomorrow, as far as I could tell.  A few minutes later, we pulled up to the bar they’d taken me to last week; the Telly.  By then, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on a bottle of beer.

 

    Eli let Micah and I off at the door and went to go find a spot along the street to park.  We waited for him to jog up, then he took Micah under his arm and lead us inside.  Music was pounding again, but it didn’t seem as loud as it had last week.  The dancing mob was still in the middle of the room, plenty more drunkards swaying sloppily off-beat.  My eyes swept along the bar counter, about thirty feet away as we made our way through a few clumps of people along the walls.  Only a few people were sitting, all at least four chairs away at the bar.  After glancing over the ones seated, my eyes landed and stuck on one form, furthest away from me.

 

    He was resting atop the end stool, hands fiddling with a half-empty glass mug.  As I moved my vision up to his shoulders, my heart gave a jolt as short sleeves revealed a trail of tattoos staining his arm.  His face was shrouded in shadows, but I was almost certain it was him — Zayn.  My mind immediately flashed back to that afternoon at the shopping centre, where I’d sworn I’d seen him.  Twice, even.  Why was he here now?

 

    I mentally shook myself.  Zayn had been here last week.  He probably came to the Telly every Friday, and it was actually me who had shown up again.  Nonetheless, I was still a little thrown off by seeing him for the third time today, especially after what had happened Monday night.

 

    I suddenly got the urge to approach him, to ask him about earlier that day.  What had he been doing in Leeds the same time I was there?  Was it a coincidence I’d seen him twice?  And how often did he come to this bar?

 

    “Are you coming, Nat?” I heard Eli call, looking back over his shoulder.  I suddenly realized I’d been standing in the same spot for about ten seconds, staring blatantly at Zayn.

 

    My face grew hot, even though Zayn hadn’t seen my gaze.  I shifted my vision to Eli and shook my head.  “I’ll catch up with you two in a bit.”

 

    Eli shrugged and continued with Micah to a pair of stools right in front of Jeremy, the barman I’d met a week ago.  He welcomed them warmly and immediately began mixing a drink, which I presumed was for Micah.  Eli had never been one for fruity blends.

 

    My eyes snapped back to Zayn as his motion caught my attention, but he had only been adjusting his stool.  I inhaled deeply and shook out my hands, as if prepping for an audition.  Taking note of the increased pace of my heart, I rolled my eyes at myself.  Zayn was just another person, who happened to have potentially saved my life on Monday.  I’d talked to him before, and I could do it again.  Plus, he owed me a drink.

 

    Feet carrying me faster than I would’ve liked, within ten second’s I’d made it to him.  I pushed myself into the stool to his right and leaned my chin in my hand.  “I swear you’re following me.”

 

    I tried not to act taken aback at my own words.  Why had I been so straightforward?  It might not have even been Zayn at the shopping centre earlier.  Plus, wouldn’t it have been odd for me to even notice him?  Granted, he was hard to miss with all of his tattoos, but it still didn’t seem normal to be able to pick someone out of a crowd like that.

 

    A small, amused smile fell over Zayn’s features as he turned to me.  “And what would make you say that?”

 

    He hadn’t missed a beat, which was plenty more than I could say for myself.  It seemed almost wrong that he was that smooth, as if he’d expected me to approach him.

 

    “I can name two times I’ve seen you already today,” I answered, deciding to go the direct path with our conversation.  “In Leeds.  What were you there for?”

 

    “I’ve been in Bradford the whole day,” he replied, a neutral look appearing on his face.

 

    “Must’ve been someone else with a whole lot of tattoos,” I teased.  When his expression went unchanged, my forehead pulled together in confusion.   _Had_ it really been Zayn today?  I decided on a different approach.  “Tell me about your day — I’m curious to know what you’re up to when you’re not coming to my rescue.”

 

    An entertained look graced his face, but he didn’t answer my inquiry.  “How about that drink I owe you?”

 

    I decided to let his avoidance of my question drop, and smiled.  “I’d love a drink.”

 

    Zayn watched me for a long second, then shouted down to where Jeremy was leaned against the counter, talking to Eli and Micah.  I watched as all three looked our way, Jeremy making his way over and Eli letting a grimace fall onto his face.  Before I had the chance to send my brother a questioning look, Zayn’s voice caught my attention.

 

    “What’s your favorite?” he asked.  I turned to face him and my eyebrow rose.  “Drink, I mean.”

 

    I shrugged.  “I like everything, really.  I had this one drink back in Dundee, though, from a bar near my mum’s.  It was fruity, but it packed a punch.”

 

    “What’s it called?”  Zayn’s hand grasped the glass mug in front of him and brought it to his lips for him to take a long sip.

 

    “Don’t remember,” I said.

 

    “What’ll it be?” Jeremy’s voice made me avert my eyes from the black-haired boy beside me.

 

    I glanced back at Zayn.  “Surprise me.”

 

    Just like Eli had last week, Zayn smiled slyly and listed off a drink in addition to a few other ingredients, and Jeremy got busy mixing it.  I wondered what it was when it took on a blue tint, and even more so when it blended into a dark purple.  A few seconds later it was set in front of me, and Zayn slid money across the counter for the barman to take.  Jeremy then headed back toward my brother and Micah, and I looked back at Zayn.

 

    “Is it any good?” I asked him, tapping the glass with my fingers.

 

    “I wouldn’t know,” he chuckled before taking another swig from his mug.

 

    I rolled my eyes.  “I should take a picture of it, as evidence to use in my autopsy if I end up dead later.”

 

    Zayn laughed.  “It’s not going to kill you.”

 

    “How do I know that?” I joked, pulling out my phone.  I flicked to the camera app, actually intending to send the picture to a friend back in Dundee who could tell what every drink on the face of the earth was.

 

    “You’re serious,” he stated, looking from me to my phone.

 

    “Of course I am,” I told him, and pressed the “take” button.  The flash was bright and lit up the area around us, but a clear picture appeared on my screen.  I was about to put it into a message before I felt a touch on my cheek.

 

    My head turned abruptly, causing the touch to press further into my cheek, making me wince.  It was the one that had been forced into the wall when the man had attacked me in the alley, and was still incredibly sore.  My hand reached up to swat the touch away, but Zayn’s hand caught my attempt.

 

    “There’s a bruise,” he said absentmindedly, using his free hand to brush over my face.

 

    My lashes involuntarily fluttered at the softness of his fingers and I felt my heart rate raise again.  “I know,” I told him.  Despite the touch that shouldn’t have been comforting, I turned my face away.  “It’s nothing.”

 

    He shook his head.  “It’s from Monday, right?”  When I nodded, he simply shook his head again.  “Some people in this city are fucked up, and you met just one of them.”

 

    I looked down at my hand, still trapped in Zayn’s.  Pulling away after I felt an awkward pause coming on, I turned toward the counter and picked up my drink.  After taking a long sip, I smiled at the sensation of alcohol slipping down my throat.  It was tangy, almost like a pineapple.

 

    “It’s good,” I told him, glancing at his face.  He was watching me carefully, making me a little uncomfortable.

 

    “I’m sorry your first real taste of Bradford was a sour one,” he said, ignoring my comment about the drink.

 

    “It’s okay,” I nodded, shifting in my seat.  “It taught me not to stop for random men on the street.”

 

    The hint of his smile was back.  “Even me?”

 

    Glad the atmosphere had passed awkward, I returned the smile.  “Especially you.”

 

    Zayn put his hand to his heart, the muscles in this biceps flexing as he mocked hurt.  I laughed and took another sip of my drink, watching as his expression pulled into a wider grin.  His fingers tapped against the glass of his beverage, not really interested in the alcohol anymore.  The music seemed to play louder in that moment, and I watched out of the corner of my eye as several people joined the mob in the middle of the room.

 

    “Do you like dancing?” Zayn asked.  He gestured toward the drunken mess, a sarcastic smile plastered to his face.

 

    I rolled my eyes.  “That’s not dancing; that’s writhing.  If this is a bar, though, I’d love to see what a club looks like.  I’d probably get a bigger laugh out of that.”

 

    “The clubs around here actually have decent dancers,” he said, swirling his drink.  “They’re just too drunk to show it.”

 

    I laughed, picturing men and women stumbling all over each other and trying to impress strangers with sloppy movements.  Though I like the feel of alcohol running down my throat, I had never enjoyed the after effects of being pass-out drunk.  One day of vomiting and a migraine had been enough to steer me clear of it for the rest of my life.  Plus, being completely judgement-impaired was dangerous, especially in a city like Bradford.

 

    “Nat,” I heard a voice say behind me.

 

    I turned from Zayn’s eyes to find my brother walking toward me.  He didn’t look happy, which confused me.  He’d been fine when we walked in.  Micah in tow, her expression was worried and almost apologetic.  I adjusted a piece of hair that hadn’t made it into my bun and gave the two a questioning look.

 

    “We’re leaving,” he said over the music as he approached.  Just like the week before, his eyes cast behind me to Zayn.  “Now.”

 

    My forehead pulled together in confusion.  With the look Eli was giving him, he had to know Zayn from somewhere.  My brother wasn’t one to throw dirty looks without reason, but he was doing a great job of it then.  I wondered what the connection was.

 

    “I haven’t finished my drink,” I pointed out.  A spike of annoyance flared up in me and I gestured to Zayn.  “I’m not going to waste it when it was bought for me.”

 

    Eli made a tangible effort to control his reaction.  “Micah and I are leaving.  I don’t want you walking home in this weather, so the only other option is to come with us now.”

 

    “What weather?” I asked incredulously.  “There was hardly a cloud over the sky when we came in, and I doubt that’s changed in the fifteen minutes we’ve been here.”

 

    My brother seemed flustered and Micah looked exasperated.  “Just come on, Natalie.”

 

    I blinked.  Eli never called me “Natalie” unless he was incredibly angry.  If it was Zayn who got him this fired up to start with, it was impossible to think they didn’t have history.  Zayn had obviously lied to me about not knowing my brother, but I didn’t know whether to be angry with him for not telling me, or my brother for being rude around a boy who was kind and had saved my life.  The only problem was that Eli didn’t know he’d rescued me from the man.

 

    “It’s alright,” Zayn said from behind me.  I glanced behind me to see him stand.  “I was on my way out.”

 

     _Liar_ , I thought at him, my temper suddenly rising at Eli.  Who was he to be hostile without reason, especially when Zayn was composed around him?  The only one giving evidence of a previous conflict was Eli, who was most likely extremely overreacting.

 

    “Please excuse my brother,” I told Zayn, rolling my eyes.  He needn’t leave just because Eli had a few anger issues.

 

    He nodded.  “I’ll see you around, Love.”

 

    As he passed, I felt his hand trail lightly across the small of my back.  My heart quickened as I watched him go, toward the back door.  I didn’t have time to question his choice of exit because Micah tugged at me hand.  I turned to face her, finding Eli about twenty feet in front of us and heading for the door.  I sighed and took a last sip from the drink Zayn had bought before following after Eli with Micah.

 

    When we got to the car I slid in and slammed my door, remaining silent toward my already unspeaking brother.  Micah climbed in and turned on the radio, providing a little noise for the awkward situation we’d put her in.  I’d been here a week and Eli had already instigated our first head-butting.  Since she’d never witnessed one of our fights before, I could imagine it would be uncomfortable for her to be in our anger-induced silence.  This was how Eli and I always sorted things out, of course — stay silent until neither of us could remember what we’d been arguing about.

 

    The drive home was filled only by the sound of soft music playing over the speakers.  When Eli parked in front of the townhouse, I was the last to leave the car and followed them up to the door.  Once inside, Micah quickly dashed for the stairs, probably wanting to escape the situation we’d put her in.  I watched her go as Eli banged around in the kitchen, probably looking for a glass for water.

 

    Maybe it was the way he was acting now, different than I’d ever seen him before, that made my anger rise to the point of saying something.  It could’ve also been the fact that he’d been rude to the boy who’d saved me, and the first one to show me kindness in Bradford.  Either way, it was definitely a first for me to make the first move in talking so soon after an incident.

 

    “What the hell was that all about?” I shot, coming to a stop behind him.

 

    Eli didn’t answer for a moment.  “What?”

 

    I scoffed.  “You know what, asshole.  He was being nice, and you had to go and get your knickers in a twist!  What has he ever done to you?”

 

    He stood stick straight, facing away from me.  “He’s not good news, Natalie.”

 

    I narrowed my eyes, annoyed at the superiority in my brother’s voice.  “So he did lie to me.  What connection do you two have?”

 

    “It doesn’t matter,” he fired back, spinning to face me.  “The fact of the matter is that he’s not a good person.  I don’t want you near him.”

 

    “The hell with what you want!” I shouted, stomping my foot.  “I’m not avoiding a kind boy without a viable reason!”

 

    Eli’s jaw tensed.  “Sticking around until you have one is idiotic,” he bit.  “Zayn Malik is a dangerous person.”

 

    I shook my head, my nails digging into my palms from clenching my fists.  “I’ve seen no reason to stay away from him.  All he’s been to me is nice.”

 

    “I can’t believe you’re being so dense!”  He slammed the cup he’d grabbed onto the counter.  “Do  you even hear yourself?!  You’ve seen him twice, in a bar, where he can’t openly do anything.  That’s hardly enough to base someones character on–“

 

    “He saved my  _life_ , dammit!” I exclaimed, putting all of my energy into the one statement.  There was a long spell of silence as Eli tried to gauge my expression.

 

    Suddenly realizing I’d just admitted to being in danger, my face fell.  Now he knew I hadn’t been completely honest in saying I’d made it home alright, and had a reason to mistrust me.  I took a step back, wanting to avoid the impending shouting match that would make the one we’d just had seem quiet.  Being babied was the last thing I’d put on my list of goals when moving here, and I’d do everything in my power to give Eli a reason to let me fend for myself.

 

    “What the  _hell_  does that mean?”

 

    I shouted in frustration and spun on my heel, exiting the kitchen just as quickly as Micah had dashed away.  Eli called after me but I ignored him, locking myself in my room and falling back onto the bed.  I rubbed my temples, trying to calm down.  My brother never got this mad.  Had he changed in the time he’d been away from home?  I doubted it.  Whatever he was mad about was a big deal.

 

    Which only made me wonder — what had Zayn done to ignite this much rage in Eli?


End file.
